Deception
by StarBellySneetch
Summary: Post finale. When Brennan has a date that goes terribly wrong and Booth has a cold case that begins to feel eerily familiar, Brennan finds herself in a web of deception that threatens her relationship with Booth and her life.


**Disclaimer: **Bones and all its characters belong to Fox.

**A/N:** Just a warning... I happen to be one of those annoying authors who gets randomly inspired with a story then randomly stops. I have no intention of doing that with this one, but with college and life in general, you never know. Anyways...enjoy!

* * *

Temperance Brennan was light and cheerful as she floated into her apartment well after midnight, her date tight on her heels. Her cheeks were flushed and her eyes were sparkling; the product of happiness and a copious amount of red wine. She locked the door behind them and unceremoniously flung down her purse and keys, turning to address her guest.

"Something to drink?" she questioned with a tilt of her head and a coy smile.

He laughed, a low rumbling sound.

"I think we've both had plenty of that for one evening," he replied lightly, loosening his tie and taking a step closer.

She laughed faintly in agreement. Her laugher tapered off as she sensed the light mood of the room increasing in intensity. She had been seeing Grayson for over a month now, three if you counted their casual friendship that began when they met at a conference late May. But for some reason, she had avoided becoming intimate with them. She hadn't been herself lately. Her mind had been clouded with the disastrous events that had hit her team recently; Zach's betrayal and Booth's fake death.

Brennan immediately put up a mental roadblock. She wasn't going to ruin her night with thoughts of Booth. Lately just being around him caused all sorts of confusing emotions to arise; it was hard enough to deal with it when they were together, she wasn't going to let him spoil an evening that was supposed to pose as a distraction.

Because if she was truly honest with herself, that's exactly what Grayson was; a distraction. When he took her to fancy restaurants and they engaged in intellectual discourse, she nearly forgot that she spent two unspeakably horrible weeks mourning the loss of her partner just to discover she'd been deceived. When Grayson smiled his charmingly crooked smile it almost made her forget about another charming smile that made her stomach feel as though the floor had dropped out from under her feet. Almost.

A distraction. That's exactly was Grayson was to her. And a damned good one at that, she admitted to herself, admiring his tall, sturdy frame and exceptionally good looks.

"What's on your mind?" he mumbled, using two fingers on her cheek to guide her gaze up to him.

_What the hell,_ Brennan thought to herself. They'd be seriously dating for over a month, she was more than a little drunk, and it had been awhile since she last had sex. She stood on her tiptoes and leaned in until their lips were almost brushing.

"You," she lied shamelessly.

Clearly happy with her answer, he bent forward to kiss her deeply, his eyes dark with desire.

* * *

After a steamy make-out session in the living room, they had finally made their way to Brennan's bed, leaving a trail of clothing behind them. Brennan hummed in satisfaction as she trailed her fingertips down the hard plane of Grayson's torso. He groaned low in his throat and trailed kisses up her neck. It had been way too long.

So far everything had been exactly as she expected; playful, unemotional, and satisfying, just like their relationship. Straddling his hips, Brennan reached behind her back to unclasp her bra, sending the article of clothing floating towards the floor. Grayson grinned mischievously up at her and suddenly flipped her on her back, causing a gasp of surprise and desire to escape her.

She moaned as he pinned her hands above her head and sensuously rubbed himself against her. Brennan planted a sloppy kiss on his mouth and wriggled with pleasure as his mouth strayed from her mouth and trailed kisses down her neck, chest, and beyond.

Brennan couldn't pinpoint the exact moment it happened, but something began to change. Grayson's grip on her hands was too tight for comfort and his kisses and nips were becoming steadily rougher. She shifted uncomfortably, hoping to catch his attention nonverbally, but he persisted.

"Gray..." she murmured. "Gray, not so rough."

Without acknowledging her, he bit her collarbone, hard enough to elicit a gasp of surprise and pain.

"Dammit Grayson, that hurt!" she said loudly, her sexual desire channeling into anger.

This caught his attention. He looked down at her and suddenly, Brennan came crashing to earth. There was nothing in his eyes that indicated he remotely cared about her, and to be honest, she couldn't say she cared about him either. They were socially compatible but she didn't truly know the man. She certainly didn't recognize the empty, cold look that was currently in his eyes. His grip tightened on her wrists and she felt the bones grind together with bruising force.

"Let go of me," she hissed. "Now."

His biceps flexed as he squeezed harder and Brennan glared directly in his eyes, a sickening horror shooting through her. _This is turning him on,_ she realized disgustedly. Instinctively, she shot her knee up into his groin. When her hard kneecap collided with the tender flesh, Grayson released his grip on her in order to cup himself, groaning in pain.

Brennan rolled off the bed quickly and covered herself with the first article of clothing she put her hands on. Her hands shook with anger, revulsion, and more than a smidgen of fear as she tossed Grayson's clothes onto his pathetic, groaning form.

"Put your clothes on and get out," she snapped icily, her voice sounding much stronger than she felt.

Grayson stiffened at the sound of her voice and sat up carefully. His eyes bore into her as he violently yanked his clothing on. Brennan watched him with equal venom in her eyes, meanwhile slowly backing towards her dresser. Her hand reached behind her to grip the knob of the top drawer as he slowly approached, muscles flexing tensely.

It was almost as if time were moving in slow motion. Brennan's head felt like it was spinning and she cursed herself as she realized how inebriated she was. This evening had been all about distracting herself from Booth and look where she had ended up.

Booth. The thought of her brought a pang in her chest. Though it killed her to admit it, she would have given anything to have him here now. They could be joking over late-night Thai or drinking whiskey out of paper cups. Booth would never have let her drank as much as she drank tonight and even though the tension between them just about killed her, he would never in thousand years be anything but kind towards her.

_Stop thinking about Booth, _she commanded herself, something like panic running through her as Grayson paused to survey her lewdly. _You wanted to be away from him tonight and now you're alone in a bad situation, so act goddammit!_

"I said leave, Grayson." Brennan said in a level and harsh voice. "So go."

He merely grinned and reached out towards her. But even at her level of inebriation, Brennan was quick, and she whipped out her large pistol from the drawer behind her and held it steadily between them. Grayson eyed it mildly.

"Is that really necessary?" he drawled lazily.

"I don't know, you tell me," Brennan replied evenly.

Even with a pistol aimed at him, Brennan felt fear shoot through her as he leaned his head towards her and stared right into her eyes with an emotionless gaze.

"I figured you for a slut Temperance," he whispered coldly. "But I didn't anticipate you being a tease."

He smiled with satisfaction at the flash of hurt and shock that flashed through her eyes and then leisurely strolled out the bedroom door. Brennan kept her pistol upright until she heard him exit through her front door. Only then did she replace it in its proper spot with shaking hands and rush to her front door to slide the deadbolt and chain in place.

As she heard the faint sound of Grayson's car starting below in the parking lot, Brennan sank slowly to the floor, her back against the wall. She was sick with herself, sick with Grayson, and most frustrating of all, she wanted nothing more than to call Booth.

Ignoring the way her knees trembled, Brennan stood and made her way to the bathroom to clean up. There was no way she would be calling Booth. No way was she letting him put Grayson down as yet another one of her ridiculous relationships. At least this wasn't as bad as Will Hastings who decapitated his own brother.

Brennan unconsciously rubbed her aching wrists and decided then and there that as far as she was concerned, this incident never happened.

* * *

The next morning at work was rough to say the least. Brennan was hung over, sore, and disgusted with the events of the previous night. Her stomach had protested fiercely at anything other than coffee, so she had skipped breakfast and focused her attention on making herself look presentable. She covered the circles under her eyes with makeup, styled her hair modestly, and placed clunky bangles on her wrists to hide the fact that they were beginning to look bruised.

Once at the lab, she'd forced a grin on her face and said hello to Angela and the other squints in a fairly cheerful tone before retreating to the pile of paperwork that awaited her in her office. Here she could type mindlessly and not think of her disastrous date. She was currently mentally preparing herself for the inevitable visit from Booth that would be occurring shortly. These days he was more perceptive to her mood than even Angela.

As soon as this thought crossed her mind, Booth breezed in, whistling mindlessly. Her back stiffened involuntarily and she silently berated herself, forcing her body to relax. Luckily Booth hadn't noticed.

"Hiya Bones," he said cheerfully, perching on her desk. "How's it going?"

Forcing herself to make eye contact, Brennan smirked up at him.

"Alright," she replied. "You?"

He shrugged. "Good as ever."

Booth waved his handful of manila folders in front of Brennan's face.

"I have cold case files for us," he said, aiming a smile in her direction.

Brennan looked up from her typing, a genuine smile beginning to creep its way across her face. Half the reason things had been so tense and strange between them since Booth's "death" and the incidence with Zach, was that they hadn't been able to work cases together. They attempted lunch and coffee fairly regularly, but the lack of cases had hindered them from regaining their normal flow. Brennan and Booth rarely got along better or felt closer to one another than when they worked in tandem to solve a crime.

Now Brennan completely abandoned her typing to eagerly reach up for the files. Booth quickly jerked them out of her reach and smiled annoyingly at her.

"How about some lunch before we start working away?" he suggested. "I can't work on grisly murder cases with an empty stomach."

Rolling her eyes Brennan dragged herself to her feet and grabbed her bag. After all, she hadn't eaten breakfast and her stomach _was_ beginning to growl.

"That's the spirit Bones!" Booth exclaimed, gleeful at her lack of protest.

* * *

Brennan sat in the passenger seat of the SUV, enjoying the gentle breeze that the rolled-down window offered. Booth was rambling about the upcoming football season and she closed her eyes briefly, ignoring his words but enjoying the familiar comfort of his voice. He nudged her shoulder as he made some elaborate, excited gesture, making her laugh softly.

A lump formed in her throat as she realized they were having one of those fun, tension-free moments that had become rare lately. But naturally, it didn't last.

"So how was your date with Gray?" Booth asked her, sensing that she wasn't going to join in on his football discussion.

His tone was casual. After a few awkward encounters at the diner and one uncomfortable group dinner with all the squints and Grayson, Booth had actually begun to act decently towards Grayson. Brennan wouldn't say Booth actually _liked_ Grayson, but he tolerated him. Suddenly, and irrationally, Brennan was angry at Booth for this. She wished that Booth hated Grayson.

"Why do you want to know?" she replied snappily.

Both Booth and Brennan winced at her tone. Booth stopped at a red light and turned to look at her in bewilderment. Brennan instantly flushed with shame and avoided his gaze.

"Sorry," she half-whispered.

She must have sounded really pathetic because Booth's gaze instantly turned from bewilderment to sympathy.

"That bad, huh?" he said as the light turned green.

Brennan sighed and nodded silently. They sat without talking the rest of the the ride, Booth patiently not prodding her.

"I broke up with him," she announced finally as Booth parked the car.

"Oh," he said. "Do you... want to talk about it?"

Something dark flashed in Brennan's eyes at his question and she stiffened as his hand made contact with her shoulder.

"No," she replied with a tone of finality.

Removing his hand from her shoulder, she quickly got out of her seat and headed into the restaurant without waiting for Booth. He watched her retreat, feeling stunned and somewhat concerned. From her reactions thus far, he knew it would be unwise to push her into talking. Sighing, he followed her into the restaurant. If anything, he hoped that working their new cases would restore the easy trust that once existed between them. Until then, he would have to deal with her blocking him out.


End file.
